


you'll be seeing me in your dreams (but i'll be there when your reality drowns)

by killingcve



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Making Out, Post-Coital Cuddling, anyways abby/ellie will always be superior and ND didn't do their dynamic justice, or whatever you'd like really, set sometime either after the ending or they run off together, so we're just gonna lie here in silence, uh oh we slept together and don't know how to process that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingcve/pseuds/killingcve
Summary: [CONTEXTUAL SPOILERS]"They take, and take, and take from each other, a complex dance, Ellie’s sweet gasps against the comfort of Abby’s lips and tongue, her own hands clinging affectionately and dearly to the girl’s waist until their circumstances lose all focus, blurred.And for the first time, in the raging expanses of Abby’s mind, it’s quiet."[OR: The one where they ran off together and had unexpected, explosive sex. This is the aftermath of that.]
Relationships: Abby/Ellie, Abby/Ellie (The Last of Us)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 248





	you'll be seeing me in your dreams (but i'll be there when your reality drowns)

**Author's Note:**

> well! if it isn't my first published fic!
> 
> please go easy on me as i'm always too scared to actually post anything i write. i'm notorious for writing really descriptive scenes off headcanons and then letting them get lost in the void of discord chat logs. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy, i sure love writing these two and probably write more of them than anything i've ever written in my life.
> 
> have fun!
> 
> -m

She rouses.

Abby’s fingers stall in the arc they’re tracing along the curve in Ellie’s spine. Out of a brief interjectural lapse of nervousness, her joints stiffen, and it occurs in the back of her mind that she may have just been caught doing something she shouldn’t have.

The newness of this entire situation makes her thoughts swim in an endless loop of questions. Silently, amidst the stuttering realization of their position, (how will Ellie feel after what happened? Will she panic and dart out one of the broken windows of the complex they’d found themselves settled in, after a few days too long of traveling? Is this too much, too intimate?) she wonders if the moment will pass if she keeps her eyes closed hard enough.

The breath washing down her neck evens out, and she cracks an eye open as Ellie shifts a bit, before Abby feels the murmur of protest low against her throat.

Oh.

The rapid sigh of relief expelled from the girl once Abby hesitantly touches her back again would be comical if it were under different circumstances. If, per se, any of this was normal, or at least an occurrence for them. But she doesn’t think that hard, and she doesn’t comment.

Indecisively, she traces various patterns in the small of Ellie’s back; outstretching her fingers, mapping out the skin there, before soothingly dragging them upwards and feeling the textures erupt with chills.

Ellie squirms, and Abby can’t help but smile.

Time slips away and they continue like that for an unknown, long interval. Abby can’t pinpoint when they started, or how long they’ve been lying like that, half awake and lapsing in and out of consciousness, but the crimson hue bathing the room suggests it’s been a while.

Throughout, the weightier points of contact remain the same; her stomach flush against Ellie’s, lifting and releasing the chest on top of hers with every breath. The damp skin of her throat where Ellie breathes evenly into her clavicle.

Her touch lingers in the landmarks of her flesh.

Her fingers find each scar dipping into the surface, the downy hair that appears the farther they travel south. They instinctively locate one of the many battle scars she’d given Ellie during their earliest encounters, mind souring with the memory. She hopes the momentary guilt bleeding from the tips of them soothes the flesh there - she feels Ellie stiffen, then relax.

A silent apology rubbed with care into the marks.

Feeling neglectful to the rest of Ellie’s back, Abby turns her palms north and caresses in a sweeping motion towards the higher expanses of her ribcage and shoulders. The stuttering breath released from the placid girl on top of her strikes an uptick in Abby’s pulse, and her sigh mirrors the feeling.

She found out earlier that Ellie’s upper back is a galaxy of freckles, tapering off gently in the middle of her spine. Abby can’t feel the difference, but as she traces the imaginary border where the constellations meet unblemished porcelain, the image in her mind’s eye glows.

She lavishes attention particularly on the muscles encasing Ellie’s scapulas, rolling into the firmness there, luckily loose instead of fraught with the usual tension that encompasses the stature of the younger girl. Knowing firsthand the power those muscles generate, Abby briefly praises whatever be to have the girl as a willing, dozing giant melting into her than the alternative.

Much, much better than the alternative, Abby thinks, and her vision fogs with the immediate memory of Ellie arching wantonly underneath her, breaths choppy and uneven and so gratefully pleading as she took her.

Her left hand frees to the arch in Ellie’s back, sliding until her thumb rests in the dimples cresting her hips. Gingerly, she presses there, images of earlier activities flooding her senses like a projector in the front of her mind. She’s in the middle of blinking her heated thoughts away when she feels Ellie stir, nuzzling sleepily into her.

“Feels good,” Comes the whisper in her neck, soft lips catching her skin on the syllables.

Abby hums.

Both of her hands drag soothingly along the outskirts of Ellie’s spine before finding purchase and resting comfortably there. Her movements illicit more conscious responsiveness from the girl; shyly appreciative sighs, tinted with the rawness of post-coital affection, and the intonation in Abby’s voice reflects the same feeling.

“Sleep well?”

There’s a moment of hesitation before Ellie exhales loudly against her neck. “Yeah, I did,” She admits, and there’s something catching in her tone akin to timidity. “Did you?”

She then realizes how suddenly hard it is to actually speak.

The foreignness of the shared moment prevents Abby from an immediate answer. She starts a few times, and the attempts of Abby’s response have a chuckle rising from the other girl, low and quietly amused; she jabs her fingers into Ellie’s side as a protest, which only makes the situation worse.

Abby shakes her head in disbelief, and after Ellie’s laughter ebbs off and joins the rest of the illegally pleasant atmosphere, she blinks up at the ceiling.

“This is so weird,” Says Ellie, snuggling into the crook of her shoulder, and Abby’s alarmed her eyes don’t get stuck for how hard she rolls them.

“Oh, really? What part?” She teases, sarcasm leaking through her tone. “I thought this was just an everyday occurrence, honestly.”

The sharp pain of Ellie’s teeth nipping harshly on her clavicle convinces Abby to renounce, and the silence from earlier settles over them like a calm blanket of unspokenness. But along with the heavier consciousness of the moment, Abby’s eyes indecisively darting around the blemished popcorn ceiling, she clears her throat, and that exact moment jumps them both into speaking.

“So, do you wanna go find something to eat with Lev, or -”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you -”

Abby’s words trail off and she’s startled into silence. The confession behind Ellie’s words ignites a fire somewhere deep in the cavity left in her wake. Ellie seems equally embarrassed; the muscles in her back tense and almost as naturally as Abby feels them constrict she uses her fingers to soften them away.

Ellie was right, she thinks, this is very weird.

“Okay,” Abby says. (As comforting as you can sound when you’re hit with the realization you’ve bedded your mortal enemy.) She gives Ellie the opportunity to continue, but when no response comes, she decides to pass by the elephant entirely. “I think it might be time to, y’know, go feed the kid.”

She feels more than sees Ellie nod, but she makes no visible intention to move. “I guess, yeah.”

“Do you not want to?”

Silence from the figure above her. Then, there’s motion, leisurely - disruption of the sheet around their waists, every point of union between them brushing, and Abby feels the comfortable weight on her neck vanishing.

Ellie lifts her head and answers in lieu of a response with a kiss.

Her lips are cool against Abby’s own. The temperature difference pools a fuzziness in the depths of her stomach as she relaxes into the contact. The girl presses languidly, with some hesitation, and it seems she’s narrowly escaping melting through her, just holding back, giving Abby the opportunity as the pressure expectantly waits to be filled in return.

The warmth flooding through Abby’s system escapes in a drunken sigh as she tilts her chin upwards to kiss Ellie back with sensual ease.

Her hands pitifully immediately find purchase in the arc of her spine, before she pushes them both forwards, a gentle encouragement that she feels Ellie meet with glee.

Abby barely stops short of exhaling blissfully in her mouth. There’s more movement, then, and Ellie’s fingers clasp gently around her jaw, paralleling her own splayed digits along her skin, and the unfamiliar sensation of lightheadedness rouses in her chest at the intimacy.

The kiss lacks urgent fire; no teeth, no bruising impact, but it makes up for what it’s missing in immediate arousal in unexplored fondness and curious passion.

Ellie’s naked skin drags along her own, the concave under her chest decidedly a good resting point as she relaxes her weight into Abby to put more effort into kissing her.

When they collide for the second time, her lips parting for the gentle invitation of Ellie’s tongue before it touches hotly against her own, heat explodes through her body. The kisses progressively become filthier as time goes on until she’s not much more than responding instinctively to her movements.

The delectability should be illegal.

Abby grips onto the skin of Ellie’s hips, maneuvering them until her back hits the mattress. She surges forwards until she feels Ellie clinging desperately to her shoulders, meeting her point by point as Ellie sits atop her thighs, hot and heavy and sighing.

Her grasp of time is shattered by the pleasant heaviness above her, seconds blending into minutes into more, until the room loses focus around them.

The ceiling could come crashing down but they would remain untouched.

They take, and take, and take from each other, a complex dance, Ellie’s sweet gasps against the comfort of Abby’s lips and tongue, her own hands clinging affectionately and dearly to the girl’s waist until their circumstances lose all focus, blurred. 

And for the first time, in the raging expanses of Abby’s mind, it’s quiet.

.

**Author's Note:**

> alrighty, that's on that so far!
> 
> they're my favorite dysfunctional characters and i feel like the ending didn't give either of them a moment's rest. so i did that they would here. together!
> 
> big thanks to @villaneve on tumblr for being my two month long abby/ellie hc buddy. we've developed an ongoing au that's currently in the process of being written with it's OWN spotify playlist, so look out for that!
> 
> find me on tumblr at @elliedina or elliedina.tumblr.com.


End file.
